


5 Times Ned & Peter Got Caught Making Out

by red_to_black



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Dorks in Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 19:51:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15372072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_to_black/pseuds/red_to_black
Summary: ... And one time they didn't.(AKA Ned spends most of his time trying to get his hands on Peter without people walking in on them)





	5 Times Ned & Peter Got Caught Making Out

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back with the dorks in love!
> 
> hurt/comfort because i can't help myself lmao
> 
> chapter two to come shortly :)

**1.**

The first time Ned and Peter get caught making out, it’s May who finds them.

“Caught”, if you ask Ned, if a fairly loose definition considering they’re not especially trying to hide. They haven’t told anyone, sure, but they’re also not putting much effort into concealing anything. And May is easier on Peter than Ned’s parents are on him, so most of the time, they’re at Peter’s house.

This time is no different from any other time - as usual, they’re on Peter’s narrow bottom bunk, and as usual, Peter’s sort of lying underneath him, long legs hanging over the edge, head askew on a pillow. Also as usual, Ned’s not really sure how they went from animatedly re-enacting Obi-Wan’s death scene to making out, but he doesn’t mind… as usual.

He’s got one hand around the back of Peter’s head, threaded through his soft brown hair, and the other hand is sneaking its way up under Peter’s shirt, looking for his ribs, then maybe his nipples. The apartment is quiet, save for the sound of their breathing and the streets below.

Ned finally finds his target - Peter’s left nipple - and brushes over it. Peter gasps against his mouth, half surprise, half arousal, and his hips lift up.

“Ned,” he whispers.

Ned’s surprised and turned on and maybe a little scared when Peter’s hips lift insistently against his thigh, and he feels the half-hard form of Peter’s dick inside them. They haven’t gone much past fondling and kissing - Ned’s just turned sixteen and Peter is still fifteen, and neither of them exactly have a lot of experience to work with. He doesn’t know what to do if Peter wants-

“Peter, there are muddy tracks all through the house! What-”

Ned jumps back from Peter, hits his head on the underside of the bunk, and gives a sharp yelp as May appears in the doorway, staring at them. She’s holding her handbag, dressed in hospital scrubs.

“May,” Peter croaks, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “I - I um-”

“Hi, Ned,” May says to him calmly.

Ned swallows. “Hi, May.”

Peter’s off the bed in an instant. “Are you mad?” he panics. “I can explain, it’s not even that bad, Ned’s my best-”

May shushes him gently and says, “Sweetie, I’ve known for months.”

Peter blinks, casting a look at Ned in confusion. They’ve only been doing this - whatever this is - for about a month now. There’s no way she could’ve known earlier.

“… You have?” Peter asks timidly.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, sweetie! Right before the plane crashed at Coney island I came in here, and you were naked, and you both looked shell-shocked.” She clucks. “If you’re going to do this, at least use protection.”

“That wasn’t-” Ned starts to argue.

“May!” Peter yelps.

“I’m serious, boys!” May warns. “Protection!” She smiles, suddenly, and pushes Peter’s hair back affectionately. “Come on. I bought Thai on the way home.”

She leaves the room, and Peter fidgets with the hem of his shirt for a bit. Then he turns to Ned.

“Busted,” he says.

“Could’ve been worse,” Ned says. “She forgot all about the mud-”

“No I didn’t,” May sing-songs, “and if you want any of this Thai food you’ll be cleaning those footprints up first!”

 

**2.**

The Avengers see them next.

It’s a couple of weeks later. There’s been a mission, some kind of high-risk dangerous operation that they needed Peter for - needed his skills and his speed and strength - and Ned’s alerted to something wrong by the blaring of his phone.

Okay. He’s not a crazy boyfriend keeping tabs on his partner. It’s just that Peter has this bad habit of getting hurt, which comes second only to his bad habit of running off and disappearing for hours or days on end, and Ned did hack the suit, so he does kind of know how to track the suit, and okay, maybe he linked his phone up with Suit-Lady (Peter calls her Karen, but that feels weirdly intimate for Ned).

His phone lights up a split second before a klaxon sounds from it, and he lunges for it. “Suit-Lady?” he demands. “What’s going on?”

Her reply is flawless. “ _Peter has fallen twenty floors to a fire escape. He is currently unconscious._ ”

Ned swears all his blood drains out of his body; he feels like he could faint and puke and cry all at once. “Is he hurt?”

“ _Peter has several broken ribs, a broken arm, and moderate to severe bleeding from his left leg,_ ” she responds. “ _He is now regaining consciousness._ ”

“Can I talk to him through you?” Ned asks desperately.

“ _I can link your phone with Peter’s suit. He will be able to hear you as he hears me._ ”

“Do it, please-”

It’s barely a few seconds later when the connection goes live. “Ned?” Peter croaks.

“Hey, Peter,” Ned says. “Hi.”

“Karen said you were worried.” Peter sounds lost. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Is someone helping you?”

“Mr. Stark… and Dr. Banner. On their way.” He hears Peter swallow. “Wanna see you.”

“I’ll track you,” Ned promises, his heart in his throat. “I’ll track you and I’ll meet you wherever you go, okay?”

“Not far,” Peter says. He’s slurring, which is disturbing to say the least.

“What?” Ned asks. Then, to Suit-Lady, “Why’s he sound like that?”

“ _Peter has sustained a concussion and is losing blood. Shock will occur in approximately twelve minutes, twenty three seconds without medical intervention._ ”

“Where are you, Peter?” Ned asks.

Silence. Peter’s either passed out or doesn’t understand the question.

“Where is he?” Ned demands of Suit-Lady.

“ _Peter is located on the third floor fire escape of a building one block from your current location, Ned._ ”

Well, Ned thinks, that definitely explains all the banging and explosions he heard. And only one block? That’s not even far - Ned isn’t athletic in the slightest but he can make it that far in less than three minutes.

“Peter,” he says. “I’m coming, okay?”

“No,” Peter’s voice comes back, surprising him. He thought for sure Peter was unconscious again.

“ _It is inadvisable to come to Peter’s aid, Ned,_ ” Suit-Lady says. “ _Currently the Avengers are fighting_ -”

“I don’t care,” Ned says - he’s already out the door and racing around the block. “Show me where he is on a map-”

There’s a slight pause. Then his phone triangulates Peter’s position at a building less than two hundred yards away, and Ned really puts on the speed.

He doesn’t need to look far. Peter’s bright red and blue against the greyscale building and shimmering metal of the fire escape. He’s not moving.

Ned climbs the fire escape. He’s sweating and totally out of breath when he gets there, but eventually, he’s kneeling by Peter’s side and taking him in.

His arm is bent at a strange angle, and he’s breathing weirdly. There’s blood flowing steadily from a large gash on his left leg.

He reaches out to touch it, and the moment he does, Peter makes a low, surprised moan and lifts his head up a little, clearly disoriented.

“Don’t move,” Ned says, staring at the damage. “It’s just me.”

“Ned?”

“Yeah, I’m here-”

“Not safe,” Peter slurs, trying to push his hands away. “Get away-”

“No, you’re bleeding.” He pulls his hoodie off and pulls it around Peter’s leg. “Suit-Lady? Can I do anything else?”

“ _No, Ned. But your efforts have bought Peter an estimated four minutes and thirty seven seconds longer for assistance to arrive. May I suggest taking his mask off? His oxygen levels are low._ ”

Ned pulls Peter’s mask off for him. Peter blinks back.

“Hey,” he croaks.

“Hi.” Ned leans over him, trying to shield him from the bright white light of winter around them. “Sorry I hurt you-”

“My arm’s broken,” Peter moans lowly. “What if it doesn’t heal?”

“It’ll heal,” Ned says. “You always heal-”

He’s trying not to look at Peter’s arm, on that weird angle, or imagine his ribs crushed into fragments and floating in his torso freely. He’s breathing hard, and still somehow not getting enough air.

“Don’t go,” Peter mumbles.

“I won’t,” Ned says, wishing he had something to cover Peter with.

“Scared.”

“I know.” His voice breaks. “But-”

“Kid!”

Ned looks up. It’s Tony Stark, in the Iron Man suit, staring at them in horror.

“He’s hurt real bad,” Ned says, and his voice cracks again. “Karen said he only has a few minutes before he goes into shock-”

“Fuck,” Mr. Stark says. “Alright, okay, we’re getting him on the Quinjet. Let’s go.”

Peter outright wails when Mr. Stark picks him up, and Ned thinks for a moment he’s going to pass out from the noise itself, but he makes it to the Quinjet and nobody even argues when he stands by Peter’s side for the trip. There’s a metal table in the middle, and they put Peter on it, and Dr. Banner has already started working on him.

Peter’s eyes flutter halfway into the trip. “Ned?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you still there?”

“I’m still here.”

“Okay.” Peter’s eyes close again.

“Is he healing?” Mr. Stark demands.

Dr. Banner hesitates. “He is,” he says slowly. “But it seems his body is attempting to heal the concussion first, given that it’s a more dangerous injury. His leg is still bleeding, and his ribs haven’t even started. I need to set his arm-”

It’s a blur for Ned. Peter’s arm is set with a crunch and another cry, and then they’re landing, and then Peter’s on a gurney being rushed into the Avenger’s Tower’s medical facility, still seeping blood and half-in, half-out of his suit.

“Ned?” Peter asks, again, lifting his head up from the pillow. “Where?”

“I’m right here.” Ned can’t count how many times he’s uttered those words since his phone went off. “You’re at the tower, they’re gonna take care of you-”

Peter’s hand fumbles for his. “Sorry about your hoodie,” he says, tremulously. “Wrecked it.”

“It doesn’t matter, dude, you can get me another one-”

Peter’s lips quirk faintly, and then the doctor is saying, “We need to sedate him now,” and there’s a mask coming out of nowhere over Peter’s face.

“Breathe in,” Ned encourages, because Peter looks a little worried. “You’re okay.”

Peter’s out like a light within seconds, and everyone rushing alongside the gurney is left behind as Peter’s rushed into the medical wing.

Ned stands there. Tony Stark, Thor, and Captain America are there too, all looking harried. Ned would normally be thrilled to be around all the Avengers at once - except he saw Peter go into the emergency room white and bloodless and unconscious, and that would kill anyone's fanboying.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, kid,” Mr. Stark says, narrowing his eyes.

As it turns out, Peter doesn’t need surgery. There’s a lot of stitches in his leg to stop him bleeding while his healing factor catches up, and a cast on his arm, but other than that, there’s no medical intervention. He’s awake barely fifteen minutes after the medical team let up on the sedative.

“Of course the kid would take a goddamn horse tranquiliser to keep under but not heal immediately from life-threatening injuries,” Mr. Stark mutters. “Go on, go see him.”

So he does. Peter’s surprisingly alert when he goes in, just shaking off the last of it. He smiles when he sees Ned.

“Hi.”

He’s pale.

Ned goes and sits down, on the edge of the bed, but he doesn’t get to say much because Peter’s leaning up and pulling him into a kiss with his good arm and Ned melts. Peter’s alright. He’s going to be fine, maybe bedridden for a few hours before he’ll be up on his feet again.

“Ah, young love.”

Ned whips around. Tony Stark is standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Thor, Captain America, and Black Widow are all looking over his shoulders.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter says, beet red.

Thor’s face breaks out into a grin. “The man of spiders has begun a courtship!” he booms. “We must celebrate! With wine and spirits!”

“No, no,” Mr. Stark says. “The last time we did that you tried to get the kid drunk-”

“Is it not a rite of passage to become inebriated when receiving good news?” Thor asks, confused. “Love is something to be celebrated-”

“Love?” Peter splutters.

“Listen, Thesaurus,” Mr. Stark snaps, “you can get him inebriated when he’s totally and completely over the threshold of turning twenty one.”

“Hypocrite,” Black Widow says.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Stark demands.

Ned lets the conversation fade out. Peter’s hidden his face in Ned’s shoulder, but he’s smiling into his neck and he’s warm and alive, and really, Ned doesn’t care about anything other than that.

 

**3.**

Next time it happens, it’s Ned’s parents.

Peter’s released from Mr. Stark’s care the next day, still a little pale from the blood loss and a bit tender around the chest and his leg, but very much alive and itching to move.

May’s away with her new boyfriend, and so Ned brings Peter back to his house. Happy drops them off begrudgingly, eyeing them like they’re going to start making out in the back of the car.

Ned’s too nervous to. He’s moved over to the middle seat so he can put his arm around Peter’s shoulders and let Peter lean on him during the drive, but he’s definitely not about to push him down and have his way with him.

“Hey Happy?” Peter asks. He’s got a glint in his eye that tells Ned he’s about to ask something outrageous.

“What?” Happy asks snippily.

“Can we stop for McDonald’s?”

There’s a long, drawn out silence. Peter’s using his best puppy dog eyes in the rearview mirror, really playing up the fact that he still looks pretty terrible.

“Fine,” Happy says. “But you better have money!”

“I do!” Peter says cheerfully. “Do you want anything? How about a Happy meal?”

Ned has to laugh at the joke, and Peter turns to him, smiling.

“Funny,” Happy says, sounding anything except amused. “Make it quick.”

They order at the drive through, with Peter poking a twenty into the front seat for Happy to pay with. By the time they’re at Ned’s, the food is gone - with Peter polishing off more than half. His metabolism is through the roof with his powers, and right after having to heal major injuries, it’s even worse.

“Thanks, Happy,” Peter says cheerfully as he gets out of the car. He’s still limping, so Ned stays close - the doctors seem to think that his ribs and arm will heal before his leg. They seemed pretty excited over how Peter’s healing factor seems to prioritise some injuries, and normally Ned probably would be too, except it’s been a day and he’s already had a nightmare about Peter bleeding out on the fire escape.

Ned opens the door for Peter and helps him up the steps. Peter’s hips are slender under his hands, his skin warm through his clothes, and he turns to smile at Ned.

“Thanks.”

He’s limping badly enough to get Ned’s mom’s attention - she fusses over him for a bit, and they make up some half-hearted excuse on the spot about Peter getting into a fight with Flash and tell her everything is fine. Ned’s mom, who now thinks Peter’s bruised, gets him an ice pack and gives him a sweet kiss on the head.

After shaking off his mother, they head into Ned’s bedroom. Peter sits down with a wince and a tired smile. He heals, but the healing doesn’t cover blood loss, and Ned knows he lost a fair bit. Because of Peter’s unique physiology, they weren’t able to give him a transfusion, either - Peter can only receive his own blood, a situation they’re going to rectify by getting him to give some once every three months.

“How’s your leg?” Ned asks awkwardly.

Peter shrugs. “It’s sore. The stitches are itchy.”

“Want me to look?” Ned doesn’t know what help it will do, but he kind of wants to see.

“Yeah,” Peter says, and limps awkwardly to his feet to shuck his jeans off. He’s wearing loose boxers under them, and the gash - which is about two hands long - is revealed.

Ned swallows. He’s not good with blood, or injuries, especially not on Peter. But he looks, and it doesn’t seem that bad - the stitches are holding the skin tight, and the top few inches seem like they’re slowly coming back together.

He runs his hand up Peter’s thigh, right to the upper portion, under his boxers, and Peter shivers helplessly. When Ned looks, he’s half-hard.

“Seriously?” he asks. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

Peter grins sheepishly, a pink blush dusting his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Ned wishes they had more time, more space, more - everything. Because he’d really like to know how far he can take this, how far Peter will let him take it, only someone always walks in. Or Peter gets beaten up by monsters from another dimension and ends up bleeding out on a fire escape-

“Ned,” Peter says. “I have my jeans off and you’re not even looking at me-”

Ned barks out a surprised laugh and climbs on top of Peter, shifting until he’s off the injured leg and managing to stroke Peter’s sides through his shirt. Peter smiles guilelessly at him.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” Ned says softly. “I, um-”

The door bangs open. Ned flails a little and falls, spectacularly, onto the floor, which he’s pretty sure hurts more than Peter’s leg (and he doesn’t even have a cool healing factor), and he’s only just getting up when he hears his mom’s voice.

“Peter!” Ned’s mom scolds.

Ned feels like he’s gonna puke, or faint, or maybe both. This is it. This is where someone has finally decided not to be accepting of them-

“You forgot to take your shoes off again!” Ned’s mom says exasperatedly. “How many times have you been to this house?!”

“Lots, Mrs. Leeds,” Peter squeaks, scrambling off the bed to pick up his sneakers. “I’m sorry. I just forgot. And my leg-”

Ned’s mom softens a little at that. “Of course.” She stands with her hands on her hips. “Well, you can’t walk home on that leg of yours, and I doubt your aunt will want to come and get you. You can stay here tonight.”

Ned starts to relax a little. His mom hasn’t said anything, even though Peter is only wearing boxers and there's really no reasonable explanation for that.

“Thanks, Mrs. Leeds,” Peter says with a shy grin. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” she says amusedly. “But keep the door open, okay?”

“Mom!” Ned says, aghast, as his mom leaves. Peter’s so red the remaining blood in his body must have rushed upwards, and he sits down weakly on the edge of Ned’s bed.

“Could’ve been worse,” Ned offers.

“I’m wearing Iron Man boxers,” Peter says mournfully, and Ned laughs.

 

**4.**

The universe is colluding against them.

Every time they go to Peter’s house, May is there. And every time they go to Ned’s house, his mom is there. And Ned loves them both, he really does, but his number of opportunities to push Peter up against a wall or a bed and kiss him senseless have rapidly dwindled over the last week or so, and there’s only so much he can take.

So now they’re forced into this. This being a party for some senior Ned doesn’t know, just for the anonymity and lack of parental supervision.

The music is loud. The walls are humming with it. What started as an attempt to get Peter grounded again - his senses had gone haywire the moment he walked through the door - has evolved into a full-on makeout session against the wall.

Ned figures, what are the chances of someone recognising them, really? He’s not even wearing his hat, and Peter is crowded up against the wall with Ned holding him there, and neither of them are really recognisable. Peter’s arms are around his neck and shoulders and Ned’s touching Peter pretty much everywhere he can reach, from the wiry, lithe muscles of his thighs to his arms and chest.

This is different. Their kissing is frantic. Peter’s panting against him, making breathy little noises that sound like they could be moans, and his hair is a mess and flopping into his eyes. Ned loves watching Peter come undone - loves feeling it as their tongues slide together and their lips brush and Peter nibbles on him a little, loves feeling the hardness between Peter’s thighs - he’s not even shy about it anymore, or nervous, he wants to unzip Peter’s jeans and-

“I fucking knew it!”

They separate with a gasp. Flash is standing behind them, gawking, with a group of people from their high school. Michelle waves at them from the kitchen counter.

“Uh,” Ned says, feeling stupid and drunk on Peter’s scent and taste.

“Right from the moment you punched me in the face, Parker, I fucking knew you guys must be gay for each other,” Flash crows.

“Loser,” Michelle comments.

Flash whips around. “What?”

“It took you that long?” she scoffs. “Dumbass.”

Ned wants to say something but Flash and Michelle are engaged in a heated debate over their sexuality, right there - Ned hears an indignant “next you’ll be telling me if I paid more attention I’d realise Parker is Spiderman!” - but Peter shifts behind him.

He turns. Peter smiles a little. His lips are dark red, swollen, and his eyes are almost black under the dim lights of the living room.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” he suggests.

“Yeah,” Ned breathes. “Okay.”

 

**5.**

The fifth time, it’s Mr. Harrington.

They should probably stop sneaking out of decathlon practice to find somewhere quiet in the school to get handsy with one another, but they can’t help it. They always get interrupted and Ned’s as attracted to Peter’s brain as he is to the way Peter’s been playing footsies with him under the table. So it’s not even really his fault.

Peter’s sock-clad foot has slipped up Ned’s calf when Ned squeaks, “Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Sure, Ned,” Mr. Harrington says absently. “But remember I’m responsible for you. I don’t want another Matt Carson happening.”

Ned and Peter share equally as dubious “what the fuck” looks over the table before Ned gets out of his chair and leaves, making a mental note to find out who Matt Carson was and what happened to him. Mr. Harrington seems to lose students a lot, come to think of it.

Just as he’s reached the bathroom door, Peter swings down in front of him, holding onto a strand of his webbing with one hand and waving with the other. Ned almost screams. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be used to Peter doing that.

“What’re you doing out here?” he whispers.

Peter grins, upside-down and pretty in the light streaming through the big windows in the science block. “I forgot my book and had to come back and get it,” he says innocently.

“Mr. Harrington-”

“He’s waxing poetic about that Matt Carson guy,” Peter whispers, still hanging there. Ned takes a moment to admire the way the arms in Peter’s muscles are tensed from the effort.

“Oh.” Ned nods. “Do you think maybe he’s a serial killer?”

“What? No. Ned-”

“Or maybe they were secret-”

Peter doesn’t let him finish the sentence; he moves forward and kisses Ned gently, right from where he is, hanging upside-down from the roof of the science building. Ned’s so surprised he actually goes quiet.

Peter pulls away, grinning sheepishly. “I’ve wanted to try that for ages,” he says.

“Come down,” Ned pleads, and Peter releases the web and lands lightly, easily, on his feet. He smiles at Ned.

“Hi.”

Ned backs him up, and Peter goes willingly. It’s sort of thrilling to Ned - Peter could resist, get away, bench Ned’s weight and then some without breaking a sweat, but he lets Ned back him up and take control every time, and he even smiles about it.

Peter’s back hits the wall, and Ned leans in to kiss him, feels Peter sigh against his mouth gently. He’s always so responsive, Ned reflects, always so pliant and willing.

“Wanna come back to mine after this?” Peter mumbles into his mouth. “May’s working late…”

“Yeah,” Ned agrees, managing to find a sliver of Peter’s skin between his shirt and his jeans. “That sounds-”

“Boys?”

Ned backs up abruptly, and their heads turn to find Mr. Harrington standing there, staring at them.

“Uh,” he coughs, “while I appreciate that teenage relationships are… important for development and… exploration of-”

Peter’s gone beet red.

“Of…” Mr. Harrington waves his hands. “Perhaps you’d be better off exploring it at home, and not while you’re supposed to be in decathlon practice?”

“Of course, Mr. Harrington,” Ned says, distantly reflecting that the universe seems absolutely determined to cockblock him in the worst ways possible.

“We won’t do it again, Mr. Harrington,” Peter says earnestly, and Ned doesn’t think he’s ever heard a bigger lie. He doesn’t call Peter out on it though - he’s too busy trying to plan a way for them to do what they want and not get interrupted.

He might just have one.


End file.
